


Hide, and Seek, and Catch.

by ProfessionalCatFan (idemandahug)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anxiety, Betrayal, Blood, Distrust, Friendship, Horror, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mind Games, Multi, Paranoia, Trust Issues, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idemandahug/pseuds/ProfessionalCatFan
Summary: At Grand Ketsu Academy, you're either a vampire, or a corpse.Saihara is neither. A normal human trapped amongst vampires, Saihara's life will soon become a living hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a story about Saihara at a school for monsters, but as I wrote it became less comedic and more of a horror story.

He looks like a corpse lying on the hospital bed, pale and unmoving. That thought terrifies Saihara, and he has to reach out to tap his uncle’s shoulder, just in case.

His uncle’s eyes open. He gives Saihara a weak smile.

“Sorry about this,” he rasps. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

He’s lying, and they both know it. Saihara nods regardless.

He stays in the waiting room for a while after, wallowing in the emptiness gnawing at his chest, angry at the world and himself. His uncle, the man who was always there for him, who acted like a father, is dying. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

There’s nothing he can do when his parents finally arrive.

There’s nothing he can do when his mother tries to smile at him, even though the distance between them is clear.

There’s nothing he can do when his father says in a hushed voice, “So what are we going to do about him?”

There’s nothing he can do.

* * *

 

The train rattles as it reaches a sharp bend, and Saihara’s suitcase slips from the overhead luggage rack and hits the floor. Saihara jumps in his seat, closing his book before glancing around the carriage—he’d hate to have disturbed someone. However, his worry is unnecessary. The carriage is empty, just as it was when he first stepped on the train. He sighs and goes to retrieve his suitcase.

Once the suitcase is back in place, Saihara sits in his seat and wonders, with a wistful stare out the window, how much longer this train journey will last. It’s pitch black outside; he can’t see anything no matter how hard he stares. The only indicator the train is even moving is the way the carriage judders and tosses him about.

According to his watch, it’s nearly midnight. He was supposed to arrive at 6PM. He can only hope someone will let him inside, since he doubts any school would be open this late. Otherwise, he’ll be stuck sleeping in the cold, by the gates of Grand Ketsu Academy.

He hadn’t heard of Grand Ketsu Academy until he was told he’d be attending. His parents showed him a website that gave him some basic information: Grand Ketsu Academy is a boarding school nestled in the country, far away from even the most remote villages. It has been described as a hidden diamond amongst schools, as almost every one of its students earns high grades and later becomes an upstanding member of society. The website was decorated with pictures of smiling students wearing a dark blue uniform. Grand Ketsu Academy truly seemed like the perfect school.

Maybe too perfect.

Saihara plays with a lock of his hair. He doesn’t understand why Grand Ketsu Academy would accept him under such short notice. The website itself said the academy has a strict acceptance policy, that most applications are rejected immediately. And yet, Saihara was accepted so easily. No application, no fees, no exam: his parents were simply inquiring over different boarding schools and Grand Ketsu Academy offered to take him in. They even mailed him the uniform, which he found scratchy and tight.

He tried to talk to his parents about this. He wanted to explain there was no reason for the academy to accept him—it’s not like his grades are outstanding or anything. But his parents laughed off his worries, and told him to just accept the gracious offer. 

Pessimistic, Saihara wonders if his parents were just eager to send him away.

The train carriage door opens. Saihara jolts and looks up. A girl is standing in the doorway, her blonde hair resting past her shoulders. She’s wearing the Grand Ketsu uniform as well.

“Oh, good! I’m not the only one!” She puts her luggage in the overhead carrier as she talks, and takes a seat opposite Saihara. She leans forward eagerly. “Are you a new student, too?”

Saihara nods. After hours in the empty carriage, being suddenly faced with someone so bright makes him feel a little awkward.

“I was terrified they were going to yell at me for being so late, or maybe just lock me out all night. But if it’s two students late instead of just one, maybe they’ll be more lenient. I mean, maybe it’s a regular thing. Maybe lots of Grand Ketsu students are late on their first day. Yeah, it doesn’t sound likely, but it’s possible, right?” She smiles at him. “I’m Kaede Akamatsu. What’s your name?”

“Oh, um… Shuichi Saihara.”

“Nice to meet you, Saihara-kun! I hope we get along.”

“M-me too, but, um, it’s not like we know if we’re in the same class, so…”

“Ah. Well, let’s just get along anyway!”

The two of them continue talking for some time. It takes a while, but Saihara eventually finds himself speaking more openly around Akamatsu. They’re both new students, and both hopelessly late on their first day—perhaps that’s allowed a camaraderie to form between them. Nervous and lost in a new environment, they need to cling to someone else like an anchor.

At first, Saihara doesn’t realise the train is slowing down. He blinks when it stops, as does Akamatsu.

“...I guess we’re here,” she says, cheer slipping from her face. She sounds anxious now, and Saihara can’t blame her.

Together, they grab their luggage and leave the train. The platform is small and rundown: as Saihara takes in a breath of night air, he feels the beginnings of rain.

“I don’t think I brought an umbrella,” Saihara says, sighing.

“Me neither… But it’s okay! We’re probably really close to the school.”

Akamatsu walks on ahead in search of a sign or any sort of landmark, and Saihara hurries after her. It’s so dark, he can barely see what’s in front of him. He can just make out the looming silhouettes of trees, their leaves rustling in a gust of wind. He shivers.

“Hey, Akamatsu-san—”

Then something grabs his arm from behind, and Saihara yells. Akamatsu does as well. He turns, and sees a boy.

He’s dressed in the Grand Ketsu uniform, and while he’s rather short Saihara figures he must be around the same age as the two of them. His dark hair droops slightly in the rain.

“Whoops! Did I scare you? Sorry!” The boy doesn’t sound sorry at all. He shouts towards the trees, “Heeeeeey! Harukawa-chan, I found them!”

“You were looking for us?” Akamatsu asks, having apparently recovered faster than Saihara.

“Well, yeah! Everyone at the school’s been accounted for except for a Kaede Akamatsu-chan and a Shuichi Saihara-chan, so the teachers were pretty worried. The last train should’ve just gone by, so they sent us down to see if you were here.” He glares at them. “Geez, it’d look really bad on the school if two new students went missing, you know! You guys should be more careful!”

Before Saihara can respond, someone else steps out from the trees. It’s a girl this time, her long hair tied in twin tails. She regards them with a stony expression.

“So, you’re here,” she says. “Come on, let’s go. I’m sick of being out in the rain.”

The girl, Harukawa, alongside the boy who introduces himself as Kokichi Ouma, leads Saihara and Akamatsu down an uneven path. The trees are close together, branches linking above them and blocking out any exits. Saihara tries to quell the stab of anxiety and stumbles forward.

“Hey, hey, did you guys know?” Ouma says. Saihara can hear the grin in his voice. “These woods are filled with wolves.”

“E-excuse me?”

“Yep! This place is teeming with them! If you’re not careful, they’ll eat you right up.” Ouma sounds casual, as though he were talking about the weather. “I heard the academy put them there on purpose. They don’t want any students escaping, you know?”

“That’s… just a joke, right?” Akamatsu asks, clearly nervous.

“He’s lying,” Harukawa says. “He does that.”

“Aww, why’d you ruin it, Harukawa-chan? Right at the end I was gonna pounce on Saihara-chan and make him scream again—like this.”

Ouma jumps at him, clinging like a koala, and Saihara staggers back with a gasp. He can only manage a strangled, “What are you doing?!” before Ouma bites him.

Saihara freezes. It’s not enough to draw blood or even hurt, but he still frantically shakes off Ouma. He rubs at his neck.

“S-seriously, what are you doing?!”

“Oww,” Ouma whines instead of answering. “That really hurt! You’re so cruel, Saihara-chan!”

“You _bit_ me!”

“And you threw me!”

“It serves you right, idiot.” Harukawa yanks Ouma up to his feet. “Just ignore him,” she says to Saihara. “He’s always pulling dumb pranks.”

When they continue moving, Akamatsu steps alongside Saihara. “Are you okay, Saihara-kun?”

“Yeah… He just surprised me.”

Eventually, the four of them reach a bridge stretching over a river. In the distance, Saihara can finally see a building that must be the Grand Ketsu Academy. It’s bigger than he thought it’d be, and looks almost desolate in the darkness. His anxiety grows as they cross the bridge.

“Here,” Harukawa says suddenly. She holds out two sets of keys. “You’ll need to see the headmaster first thing in the morning to explain why you’re so late, but right now you can go straight to your dorm rooms. Make sure you’re quiet, okay? You both have roommates, and I’m not helping you if you piss anyone off by waking them up.”

Saihara nods and takes his key. The room number is engraved on the front.

Harukawa leads them to the school dormitories. The building seems normal enough, a little more modern than the main school building. She points Saihara towards the boys’ side, and Akamatsu towards the girls’ side.

“Heeeey, when you’re done talking to the headmaster tomorrow, I’m sure Harukawa-chan will be happy to show you around the school,” Ouma chimes.

Harukawa’s glare speaks louder than any refusal. Ouma backs away.

“God, you’re so serious…”

“Hey, Saihara-kun,” Akamatsu whispers to him. “Even if we’re not in the same class, do you think we could still be friends? I… don’t know anyone here, so…”

“I’d like that,” Saihara says, and Akamatsu smiles.

As they part and leave for their respective dorm rooms, Ouma skips ahead of Saihara.

“Wow, you’re way too trusting, Saihara-chan,” Ouma says, sighing. “What a shame. I was hoping this game would be a little more interesting than last time.”

Saihara blinks at him as he walks. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, it’s dangerous to trust someone you just met,” Ouma tells him. “Especially here. At this rate, you’ll have your throat ripped out by morning.”

Frowning, Saihara remembers Harukawa’s words. Ouma is a liar and a prankster. He shouldn’t listen to him. He reaches his door and unlocks it.

“I’ll give you a warning,” Ouma continues. “This place is Hell, Saihara-chan. If you trust everyone you meet, you won’t last long.”

“…Goodnight, Ouma-kun,” Saihara says firmly.

“Ah, well, at least I tried. Goodniiight!” And with that, Ouma leaves. Saihara finally lets himself into his dorm room.

The room isn’t anything special: it’s cozy, with a big window on the opposite wall and two beds on either side. Saihara can see a boy sleeping in the left side bed, snoring and drooling on his pillow. It seems he’s already started decorating the walls with pictures of constellations and spaceships.

Exhausted after a long and strange day, Saihara gets ready for bed as quietly as possible and then collapses on his mattress. He hears something crinkle under his pillow. He reaches under and finds a folded letter.

_Dear Shuichi Saihara,_ it reads.

_You are the sheep, surrounded by wolves._

_The wolves will devour any sheep they find._

_Your goal is to survive till the end of the year._

_Succeed, and the prize is yours._

_Best wishes, Grand Ketsu Academy._

Saihara frowns at the letter. This must be a prank.

A strange, dumb prank.

Yawning, Saihara rolls over and lets himself fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I didn't like how long it was taking me to update so I ended up cutting it short. I hope the chapter ending doesn't seem too awkward. The next chapter should be more exciting.  
> Also, Merry Christmas, everyone!

Saihara’s dreams are filled with anxiety: he sees his uncle lying on that hospital bed, can only watch as he struggles and writhes. His parents are there, too, wearing indifferent expressions, sees his parents’ indifferent expressions, and then they’re chasing him, herding him towards the academy as Saihara blindly stumbles past trees and bushes, and when he trips over a fallen branch suddenly they’re not his parents anymore, they’re _wolves_ , and—

The bedroom door opens, and Saihara snaps awake.

For a moment, he forgets where he is. He stares at the white ceiling, breathing heavily, nightmare clinging to his mind with a tight grip. The sound of footsteps brings him back to reality.

“Oh hey, you’re awake.”

It’s his roommate. Saihara sits up and blinks at him. His purple hair is unruly in a stylised way, and he wears the academy uniform casually, only one arm in his blazer. A canteen is slung over his shoulder. At his full height, he’s clearly far taller than Saihara.

“You must be a heavy sleeper,” his roommate comments, walking to him with an easy grin. “I tried to wake you earlier, but you wouldn’t budge. You missed breakfast, you know.”

“Um… Huh?”

Saihara looks at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly time for classes to start. Used to easily disturbed nights, Saihara is surprised he slept for so long. Was he really that tired? He shakes his head, thoughts still jumbled, and gets out of bed.

“Here, I saved this for you.” Saihara is taken aback when his roommate hands him a somewhat squashed packet of melon bread. They haven’t talked yet, or even exchanged names—but his roommate still thought to put something aside so he wouldn’t have to go without breakfast. He’s not sure how to handle such unexpected kindness.

He accepts the melon bread gratefully, and eats it as he gets ready for the day.

There’s a large shower room down the hall that the boys’ dorm shares, which Saihara uses for a quick shower. The water’s a little too cold for his liking.

As he showers, Saihara is hit with the sudden and overpowering feeling that he doesn’t belong there. No, that’s not right. That’s too simple an explanation. Really, it feels more as though he _shouldn’t_ be there. As if this school is a place he was never meant to enter. He’s not sure how else to describe it. The water echoes in the empty shower room, and it makes his skin crawl. The air feels heavy, like his lungs are filling with wet concrete that will slowly harden and suffocate him.

He turns off the water. After dressing in his shirt and pants, he begins drying his hair.  

He stares into the mirror above the sinks, as if waiting, daring, for something to appear. In a horror movie, this would be the moment where a ghost appears behind him. But the only thing watching him from the mirror is his own pale, damp face.

“…This is stupid,” he tells himself.                                          

But the feeling that something is wrong won’t leave him. He keeps looking back as he journeys down the hallway, feet padding against the carpeted floor. He strains to hear any sort of sound. The silence feels deafening; it’s filling his ears like cotton.

Saihara hurries the rest of the way to his dorm room. Once inside, he firmly shuts the door.

“You okay? You look kind of freaked out,” his roommate says from his own bed.

“I-I’m fine. I’m just, um…” Saihara tries to think of a good excuse. “I have allergies,” he finishes lamely.

His roommate nods, but with a look that suggests he doesn’t quite believe him. Feeling awkward, Saihara grabs the rest of his uniform and puts on his blazer.

His roommate then comments, “Ah, so he wasn’t lying this time. You really are a new student.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your uniform,” he explains. “You might as well have bought it yesterday. Also, you look super uncomfortable in it.”

Saihara can’t deny that. His parents gave the uniform to him offhandedly, like dropping off a letter in a mailbox. He tried wearing it around the house at some point, to make sure it was the right size, but his stomach churned when his parents said they were happy he was finally excited about his new school. He then locked the uniform in his wardrobe until the day of his departure. He didn’t want to look at it.

“Hey, lighten up! First days aren’t good for anyone, but a positive attitude will make things easier for you,” Momota tells him with an encouraging thumbs up.

“Oh… Um, thank you,” Saihara says. Like receiving the melon bread, a sudden pep talk from a stranger feels odd. It’s not unpleasant, however.

He begins sorting out his tie in the mirror. Restless under the silence and yet unsure of what to say, Saihara tries, “So, um, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Oh yeah! My bad.” With a wide grin, his roommate says, “The name’s Kaito Momota. Nice to meet you, roommate!”

“Ah, yes. I’m Shuichi Saihara. It’s nice to meet you, too, Momota-kun,” Saihara replies awkwardly. He finishes with his tie and turns to face Momota. “Hey, um… I didn’t really have a chance to explore yesterday, so I don’t know where my homeroom is. Could you… take me there?”

“Sure thing!” Momota says. “It must suck being the transfer student, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out. This is my second year at the academy, so I know this place like the back of my hand!”

However, Momota’s claim turns out to be quite inaccurate, as after a full ten minutes of wandering the halls Saihara knows they’re hopelessly lost. 

The layout of the school is odd, Saihara notes as he continues trailing after Momota. Unlike the clearly modern dormitories, the academy’s main building feels ancient, stone and gloom on all sides. The narrow hallways are long and winding and twist at odd angles, and there are such sharp corners that in the dim lighting it would be easy to run right into a wall. The cold floor feels uneven, with Momota having to warn him of upcoming steps or holes. Even for an old building, this design is far too strange. For what possible reason could the school have been constructed this way?

It’s only when they happen upon a passing teacher that Saihara is finally sent in the right direction. Once they’re standing in front of Saihara’s homeroom, Momota grins, pats his shoulder, and tells him he’ll be fine. Saihara can’t help but feel like a pre-schooler being sent off by a parent as he knocks on the door.

His teacher is a kind looking older man called Mr Idabashi. “Try to be on time tomorrow,” is all he says in response to Saihara’s lateness, before his introduction to the class. Standing at the front of the room, Saihara notices two familiar faces. First is Akamatsu, sitting in the middle row. Her eyes light up when she sees him; Saihara immediately feels his anxieties ebb slightly. They exchange nervous smiles as he takes the free seat next to her. The second, to Saihara’s surprise, is Ouma. He’s lounging in his chair at the very back, spinning a pen between his fingers.

Upon catching Saihara’s eye, a wide grin creeps along Ouma’s face. Saihara looks away.

By the time lunch starts, Saihara can name most of his classmates. Next to him is, of course, Akamatsu-san. The boy in front of him with soft green hair is Amami-kun. The blue haired girl with her head buried in a manga is Shirogane-san, and staring out the window is Chabashira-san. The polite boy who leant Saihara an eraser in class is Kiibo-kun—and Ouma-kun is the one aiming paper planes at Kiibo’s head.

Everyone seems friendly, at least. That’s comforting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! I was experimenting a little bit with the writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Side by side, Saihara and Akamatsu go to the dining hall. He doesn’t have to worry about getting lost this time, as the steady stream of teenagers makes finding the dining hall an easy task. As they move, they chat easily about the school and their classmates.

An open set of mahogany doors separates the stone wall and towers over the two of them. Stepping over the threshold, Saihara stops and blinks.

The dining hall is a vast room, with smooth, polished flooring and rows and rows of tables filled with chattering students. Food is being served at the end of the dining hall, accompanied by a delicious smell. Oddly, there are no windows. All light comes from the fluorescent lamps built into the old ceiling, though they do not illuminate the entire dining hall. Shadows cling to the walls like cobwebs. 

“Let’s go, Saihara-kun,” Akamatsu says, after he’d paused for a second too long. 

Using the provided trays, they collect their food, which is Japanese style; before there’s even a chance to search for a free table, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Yo, Saihara!”

Momota is waving at him from a table on the other end of the room.

“Do you know him?” Akamatsu asks, surprised.

“Ah, he’s my roommate…”

They go across the dining hall, towards Momota’s natural grin. Momota claps a hand on Saihara’s back the moment he’s in range, nearly making him drop his tray.

“How’s your first day going, roommate?”

“Oh, um, fine,” Saihara says, already overwhelmed by Momota’s enthusiasm. Akamatsu, on the other hand, introduces herself with ease. The two of them are so bright compared to Saihara—together they’re almost blinding.

At Momota’s insistence, they sit at the table and begin eating their lunches. Slowly, more students trickle past; a few recognise Momota and warmly greet him while taking a seat at his table, which Momota returns in full. Some are strangers to Saihara, while others he recognises from his class. Momota must be quite a social person, Saihara thinks, as even Harukawa sits down opposite them.

“Thank you for your help last night, Harukawa-san,” Saihara says, feeling awkward.

Harukawa glances at him, but doesn’t respond. Saihara looks away and wishes he didn’t say anything.

“Oh yeah, I should introduce you!” Momota says suddenly. He grins in response to Saihara’s alarmed expression. “If you’re gonna get by in a new place, you’ve gotta make friends and get involved, right? Meeting people is the first step! We were all in the same class last year, so I can introduce you to these guys easy. Don’t worry, they won’t bite.” He laughs to himself. Others at the table simply roll their eyes. “Okay, so, it looks like you already know HaruMaki.”

“That’s right!” Akamatsu clasps her hands, smiling at Harukawa. “HaruMaki-san helped us reach the school.”

“…Would you stop spreading that dumb nickname?” Harukawa scolds.

“Let’s see… Here we’ve got Angie Yonaga.” Momota points to a foreign-looking girl near the end of the table, her blazer speckled with paint. She waves at Saihara cheerfully. “She loves art, so she’s always working on something new. And d’you see the creepy guy next to her? That’s Korekiyo Shinguji. He’s pretty much memorised the whole library, so he’s the right guy if you ever need help finding a book.”

Shinguji, a long-haired boy wearing a mask over his mouth, raises an eyebrow at Momota’s comments. Saihara hopes Momota didn’t make a bad first impression on his behalf.

“Oh, and you see that really short guy over there?” Momota points to a different table. A boy is eating his meal by himself. “That’s Ryouma Hoshi. He acts tough and tries to be a loner, but he’s a good guy really. Ah, and that tall girl over there, the one serving tea, is Kirumi Toujou. She’s always taking care of everyone. She’s pretty much everyone’s mom! But, er, don’t tell her I said that. It kind of pisses her off.”

“I… I see,” Saihara says politely. “Um, I’m happy you’re doing this for me, but maybe it’d be better if I talked to them myself. I mean, it’s not really a proper introduction if I don’t actually, ah, introduce myself. Hardly anyone here even knows my name yet—”

Then Momota stands and yells at the top of his lungs, _“Hey! Heeey! You see this guy?! This guy right here?! This is my roommate, Shuichi Saihara! Shu! Ichi! Sai! Hara! And he’s officially my sidekick, so all of you better treat him well! You hear me?!”_

Momota sits back down, satisfied.

“There,” he says. “Now everyone knows your name.”

Saihara is frozen in place. Everyone’s staring. Almost the whole dining hall has fallen quiet, aside from Akamatsu’s muffled giggles.

Face burning, Saihara considers hiding under the table.

 

* * *

 

In the evening, with lessons finished for the day, Saihara and Akamatsu visit the library on the second floor. Compared to the rest of the academy, the library is almost shockingly ordinary: it’s brightly lit, normal text books separated by category on the shelves, and some fiction books and manga hidden at the back. A handful of students are working on projects and talking amongst themselves. Large windows are spaced across the walls, letting one see the academy grounds.

“I still can’t believe he did that,” Saihara says, sighing. He almost thought he would burst into flames from embarrassment.

“He was probably just trying to help you. In his own way,” Akamatsu offers. “He doesn’t seem like a bad person, so I don’t think he was trying to upset you.”

“I know…” Still, Saihara’s going to be annoyed with him for a little while.

It’s after they’ve wandered the library for some time that he notices Amami, the green haired boy from their class. He’s perusing the history section with an almost intense look of concentration, though he shows a pleasant smile when he notices Saihara and Akamatsu.

“Ah, Akamatsu-san and… Saihara-kun, right?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Saihara replies. He glumly thinks that if Amami didn’t learn his name in class, he probably heard it in the dining hall, courtesy of Momota.

“Hi there, Amami-kun!” Akamatsu says, surprisingly familiar. She turns to Saihara. “You don’t know, right? Amami-kun’s a new student, too!”

Saihara blinks. He already thought bumping into Akamatsu was a strange coincidence. Now Amami’s presence means there’s a total of three transfer students in his class alone. Isn’t that strange? Classes don’t usually gain three new students at once, do they?

“You look surprised,” Amami comments. “I suppose it _is_ a little weird. Apparently, the academy goes to great lengths to get as many transfer students as possible. Our year alone probably has countless new students.”

“But… why?” Saihara asks, frowning. He looks to Akamatsu for a possible answer, but she only shrugs.

“There’s no official reason, but if I had to make a guess…” Then Amami’s friendly eyes turn cold. His smile doesn’t slip, however. “It’s to keep the Wolf’s Game interesting, right?”

Saihara stops himself from stepping back. The atmosphere changed so quickly, with the force of a speeding car. Why does it feel like he’s breathing in ice? As he tries to quell his sudden anxiety, Akamatsu continues the conversation, unaffected.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Smiling, she says, “To be honest, I don’t know a lot about the Wolf’s Game. But it’s supposed to be fun, right? Oh! But I’m sure Saihara-kun will be a big help!” Saihara flinches without thinking when Akamatsu looks at him. “With your detective skills, you can help us find the sheep!”

And the anxiety

“Hm? You’re a detective, Saihara-kun?”

grows.

“No, I’m… I’m just an apprentice,” Saihara says, telling himself to breathe even as his throat tightens. “But… Akamatsu-san, how did you know that?”

Akamatsu tilts her head. “You told me, Saihara-kun. Remember? Last night, on the train.”

Did he? He doesn’t remember. He _can’t_ remember. His head is filled with cotton.

“Oh, I guess I just forgot,” Saihara says. He tries to swallow, but his throat is too dry.

“You forgot? That’s not a good quality for a detective, Saihara-kun.” Amami laughs airily. “Though I suppose I’m one to talk. I’m pretty forgetful myself.”

He needs to think of something else. Anything else. Something comforting—his uncle? No, no, nononono, that just makes him think of a

_corpse._

“Are you okay, Saihara-kun?” Akamatsu asks. “You look kind of pale.”

_Hospital._

“I-I need to go,” Saihara says. He can feel his body trembling. “I don’t… feel well.”

_Dying, dying, dead._

“Yeah, you look like you’re going to throw up,” Amami says, with a concerned frown. “Do you need us to take you back to your room? We can—”

_There’s nothing he can do, there’s nothing he can do._

“No, I’ll be fine by myself.” Saihara’s voice is more forceful than he wanted. Ignoring their worried gazes, he starts to hurry away, out the library. He only runs once he’s sure they can’t see him anymore.

 

* * *

 

He wants his room to be empty, but Momota’s already there. Lounging on his bed, wearing headphones, he grins when Saihara bursts in, but that smile falls as he sees his stricken state.

“You… you all right?” Momota asks, removing his headphones.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Saihara breathes. “I just need to lie down for a bit.”

He does just that, collapsing on his bed, burying his head in his pillow. His heart is beating too fast. He just needs to calm down, calm down, but he can’t because Momota’s watching him and now he’s sitting on the side of his bed and—

“Did something happen?” Momota sounds concerned. It builds frustration in his chest, and guilt.

“No, Momota-kun. I’m fine. Really.”

Momota is silent for a moment.

“Well, you know what cheers me up when I’m feeling bad? A good meal! Dinner’s gonna start soon, so why don’t we down to the dining hall?”

“I’m not hungry,” Saihara mumbles.

“But you didn’t have a proper breakfast, right? You can’t just skip dinner, too!” Momota insists. “Especially, since… well…” Then Momota blinks, and looks as if he’s figured something out. “Oh, wait a minute… Hey, when was the last time you had a drink?”

A drink? Does he mean a drink of water?

“I’m… not sure.”

Momota stands suddenly.

“Wait there, okay? I’ll be right back.” He leaves the room, and Saihara is finally left in silence.

Silence, aside from his racing thoughts.

_So what are we going to do about him?_

Him.

Him, meaning ‘ _our son’_?

Him, meaning ‘ _that boy’_?

Him, meaning ‘ _that thing’_?

_So what are we going to do about that thing?_

Throw him away.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Like a piece of trash.

Like a cockroach.

Like a

corpse?

Like his uncle.

Saihara feels like he’s going to suffocate.

He’s not sure how much time passed before Momota threw open the door.

“Hey, I’m back,” Momota says. He’s holding what looks like a flask. “Geez, you better appreciate this. I really hate owing that guy anything.”

Saihara sits up, and Momota presses the flask in his hands.

“Oh, um, thank you, Momota-kun. You really didn’t have to…”

“I’m just looking out for my roommate. Come on, drink up! It’ll help you feel better.”

His mouth dry, Saihara nods gratefully and takes a mouthful from the flask.

And chokes.

A metallic taste floods his mouth, thick and viscous and _warm._ He covers his mouth as he splutters. His hand comes away dripping with red.

Blood.

“Hey, what’s wrong?!” Momota is at his side, clapping him on the back. Still, Saihara can only retch.

“This is… This is blood,” Saihara finally gasps.

“Well, yeah,” says Momota. “Of course it’s blood. What did you expect?”

“Water! I thought… Why… Why would you…?”

“Be…Because we’re vampires, and…” Momota stares at him. “You’re… not a vampire?”

And, slowly, Saihara realises the full extent of the living hell his life will soon become.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fudge I actually managed to update this thing. It's nearly Halloween, too. I wish that was intentional.

The clock ticks and ticks even as Saihara struggles to breathe. His head feels light—it’s as if he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the ocean that waits for him to fall.

“Momota-kun, what are you talking about?” he asks, throat dry. “What do you mean… vampires? Vampires don’t exist.”

Momota is silent. Saihara digs his fingers into his palms, his heart ready to explode. And the hands on the clock continue to move.

_Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick._

“Momota-kun!” Saihara’s voice is tinged with panic. Momota jolts, then awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

“Geez, okay, okay…” he mutters. “Where to start… So, you’re a human?”

“Of course I am!”

“Of course you are. Right. Well, see, the thing is, I’m not.”

“What do you mean you’re… not?” Saihara asks, though he feels he knows the answer. Reality, or how he knows it, slips from his fingers and becomes a distant concept.

 “I’m a vampire. Just like pretty much everyone else in this school.”

“…Momota-kun, if this is a joke, it’s not funny.” 

Then, Momota grips his shoulders, tight enough to hurt.

“ _Listen_ to me, Shuuichi Saihara,” Momota says in a low voice. “You’re a sheep in the Wolf’s Game now. That means you’re in danger. If anyone here finds out you’re a human, they’ll kill you. Without even hesitating. They’ll rip out your throat and drink your blood. And I won’t be able to stop them. Do you understand?” Pale faced, Saihara doesn’t respond. Momota shakes him. “Well?!”

With this information tossed at him like a brick to the head, is it any wonder terror claws at Saihara’s heart? Close to dry heaving, Saihara shoves past Momota and runs out the room. Momota doesn’t stop him.

* * *

 

Years ago, his grandparents had a cat. She was an old, aloof thing called Hana who spent most days sleeping. She’d hiss and puff up if he got too close, so Saihara quickly learnt to keep his distance. However, her favourite place to sleep was his grandparent’s guest room; the same room Saihara and his uncle stayed in. Saihara always felt chills when he woke to bright yellow eyes glaring at him from the doorway.

And sometimes Hana caught mice.

He would hear the mice squeaking at night as Hana played with them. It was a distressed, high pitched noise that tore at his heart. But there was nothing he could do. When morning came, the mice were always dead.

Once, a mouse got away. It hid under a cabinet in the living room, away from Hana’s claws. Hana waited and waited by that cabinet, eyes wide, tail swishing, tense with anticipation… And that mouse had to choose whether to waste away in the dark, or be eaten by a monster. Either way, it would die.

Hana wasn’t consciously cruel. She was just a cat, after all. Everything she did was in her nature. But in that moment, Saihara hated her. And he hated himself, for being unable to help the terrified mouse.

But there was nothing he could do.

He wondered, occasionally: what would he do in that situation? If he was the mouse, faced with something that saw him as a plaything, and a meal?

Perhaps he will soon find out.

* * *

 

Saihara hits the cool evening air and stumbles. He rests against the wall, lungs burning, face beaded with sweat. The trees rustle, leaves flying. His mind whispers that the sounds of swaying branches could be hiding footsteps—but he can’t see anyone in the dancing shadows. 

He breathes. Inhale and exhale, again and again. He imagines his anxiety dispersing, fading, like ripples on water. Inhale and exhale.

_I’m okay, I’m okay,_ he tells himself, though he doesn’t quite believe it.

He needs to think logically. Because according to common sense, vampires don’t exist. In that suffocating room it was easy to believe everything Momota said. But the sunset’s glow clears his mind.

Saihara relaxes. Another breath of wind flows through the trees. This time, he doesn’t imagine pursuers. Instead, the sounds of nature comfort him. He’s in an unfamiliar place, yes, but the world is still the same. And it’s a world where vampires are fictional.

So, why did Momota warn him about vampires? Simple. It was a prank. A rather cruel one at that, considering the state Saihara was in. Frowning, he wonders if he should revise his opinion of Momota.

“Saihara-kun!”

Saihara looks up too quickly, and vertigo takes over long enough to for him to lose his footing. He falls under a tree’s shade, on his knees, grass and mud between his fingers.

“Are you okay?!”

It’s Akamatsu. Her footsteps reach him—she places a concerned hand on his back.

“What happened? D-did you faint?”

“No, no, it’s nothing serious,” Saihara says, embarrassed. He glances up, but he can barely see her face through the shadows. “I tripped, that’s all. Sorry.”

“Geez, I was really worried.” Akamatsu sounds annoyed, yet relieved. “But I’m glad I bumped into you. Something amazing happened and I just had to let you know! And, well, I wanted to make sure you were all right. You ran off so suddenly…”

“O-oh. I’m really sorry about that.” As he says this, Saihara climbs to his feet, brushing dirt from his hands. “I, um, felt sick.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“I think so. Though, Momota-kun’s prank didn’t help.”

Akamatsu tilts her head. She helps Saihara out of the shade. “Huh? What did he do?”

“It’s silly, really. He said—”

And his words die.

“Aka…matsu-san?”

He’s finally had the chance to see Akamatsu’s face. She notices his gaze and runs a curious thumb over her cheek. A normal person would be surprised, and terrified. How else would one react to the revelation that their face is splattered with blood? But Akamatsu is calm. No, more than that, she’s smiling.

“Oh yeah! That’s what I wanted to tell you!” She licks the blood from her thumb and grins at Saihara. “Someone found a sheep! Everyone else had almost finished it by the time I got there, but I still got to drink a bit. Though, I’m not used to drinking straight from the source. I must have spilt some…” Akamatsu giggles, as if self-conscious.

Saihara can’t speak. If he says anything, he’ll be forced to acknowledge this reality.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Akamatsu seems to misunderstand his silence. “I know I should have found you first, but there wouldn’t have been anything left by the time we got there. Are… Are you upset?”

Completely numb, Saihara manages to smile. “No. I’m not.”

“Hey, don’t worry, okay? There’s still lots of sheep in this school. I’m sure you’ll find the next one.”


End file.
